


Severus Snape's Second Annual Ann Summers Party

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it hadn't gone so well, but then through a haze of liqueur chocolates Severus spots the man of his dreams - and he's <i>continental</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Severus Snape's Second Annual Ann Summers Party

There was a lot you could tell about a person by their taste in sex toys. That was the theory, anyway, and Severus Snape had quite the collection. They weren't for his own personal use, naturally. However, unless other people started turning up soon, he might be forced to.

Tonight was the evening of Severus Snape's Second Annual Ann Summers Party. For a Muggle shop, it had tremendous variety- far better than the ill-lit shops at the far end of Insertain Alley. Provided with a supply of tiny, inexplicable things called batteries, the pleasure-seeking witch or wizard need look no further than the Potions classroom on the second Saturday in May, eight p.m. onwards.

It was five to eight, and Severus was growing anxious. He'd promised himself it would work this year. This year he'd made sure the posters were confined to the staffroom this time, and not let any fall into the hands of the Weasley twins.

Of course, the Weasleys had a hand in his failure, but if Severus had to pin down exactly who had been the cuplrit, hands down it had been that bloody Potter. He'd strolled in, picked up a buttplug, and demanded to know who it was used by, where it was inserted, and to what end. Severus was pleased to note that this was apparently one of the few things that Granger did not know.

The other sidekick, another Weasley, had been a different sort of trouble. The less said about it the better, but the short of it was that there had been an inquiry, and Severus had needed to fight to have the party this year. The only saving grace was that Dumbledore was on his side, relieved that teachers had an outlet "for themselves".

The headmaster had made it clear, however, that he had other business to attend to tonight, and would not be attending. Albus was old enough to be his grandfather, and Severus was somewhat relieved.

It wasn't just that Severus enjoyed these types of evenings, a throwback to his student days, but that he needed someone, for cold nights, long nights, hot nights, restless nights and the occasional night atop the Astronomy Tower. Teachers needed sex like anyone else.

Severus was one of those gifted in dilataromancy- the ancient divinatory art of reading a person's bedroom habits in the selection they made when faced with a room filled with instruments of pleasure.

One side of the room catered exclusively to women.

 **Exhibit A** \- the state-of-the-art, brushed steel and silicon, mega-O hyper-rabbit deluxe. Five preposterously pleasurable vibrating settings, ergonomic design and frankly, it wouldn't look out of place at a modern art exhibition.

This was for the Cosmo reader, the woman who knew which ten sexual positions best maximised her sexual pleasure, the woman who'd tug mercilessly at your balls to stave you off for ten minutes longer while she worked herself around your erection.

Not, ideally, the sort of bedfellow Severus was looking for.

 **Exhibit B** \- a representation of a black male penis, but of a length, girth and veinal structure which defied both biology and sanity. Purely functional, solid rubber, no vibrating setting nor gimmicks, just one brutal auto-fuck.

Unless Severus wanted to become accustomed to a crippling sense of inadequacy, he ought to steer clear of any woman who chose this monstrosity as her partner in pleasure.

 **Exhibit C** \- The novelty corn-on-the-cob vibrator. One setting, on or off, absurd design and colouring, somewhat unforgiving hard plastic, AA batteries.

A less discerning onlooker might dismiss the user of the corn-on-the-cob, but Severus knew these were the women to go for. A sense of humour in bed was a far more desirable trait than statistically perfect sex or holding up a ruler against the damn thing to see if it measured up, that was for certain.

Men had other tells. And before you judge Severus, he couldn't help that hard lines turned him on as much as curves. True, he'd been on an intermittent dry run since 1976, but at least he was being proactive about it. And tasteful.

Obviously, anyone who opted for a silicon vagina earned themselves an instant check off the list. After that, it was a matter of seeing how his potential partner liked to be pleasured, and whether the tool doing the pleasuring looked like an instrument of torture.

After perusing the goods, settling in with a glass of wine, they'd all play games. Hardly innocent fun, but what was a bit of dirty talk amongst friends and colleagues? He'd flirt, lick lips, make eye contact, fingertips placed gently on the waist when the game and the alcohol allowed for it.

Severus Snape was getting lucky tonight.

A knock on the door dragged him out of his musings.

"Professor?"

A student. Severus whirled around, hoping the billowing of his cloak obscured the more lewd items. He wordlessly cast a Billowing Charm for good measure, hoping his imposing appearance would frighten the little runt off.

No such luck. It was the penultimate Weasley- no doubt on Potter's command.

"Weasley," Severus drew the name out, lacing it with contempt. "Whatever your business here, you had better make it quick."

"I'm here for the party," the boy nodded, as if to convince himself.

"Students were not invited."

Snape's eyes narrowed. He really ought to wear his glasses, but squinting to bring Weasley into focus did the same job.

"I know," Weasley avoided his eyes. "Nobody else knows. I didn't tell them. To tell you the truth, I wanted you all to myself."

Severus twitched.

"What did I tell you? Weasley, I am a teacher. You are a fifteen year old boy. I do not-" his voice dropped to an enraged whisper "-need another investigation."

"Is that what this is about?" Weasley asked. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"Partly," Severus sniffed. "But I am not attracted to any of the students in my care, least of all you. Now scurry along, before I take two hundred points from Gryffindor."

Weasley stuck out his lip.

"You're just saying that. Alright, I'll go. For you. But their rules can't stop our love, Professor."

The boy shrank out of the doorway and was gone.

 _"Finite Incantatem._ "

Snape's cloak stilled. He glanced at the clock. Two minutes past eight. There was still time.

Time passed, however, and nobody else visited Snape's dingy classroom. He opened a bottle of rosé and helped himself to the sundried tomato palmiers. Before long, he had drained the kirsch from a tray of liqueur chocolates.

By nine, Severus was lost in a fog of rejection and booze. Which is why, when the door swung open, the wizard who strolled in seemed to have come out of a dream.

He was not tall, but slender, slightly awkward in his movements in a way that made Severus unconsciously smile. He wore frayed jeans and a maroon jumper, and leant on one of the tables.

"Am I in the right place?" he asked.

"Yes," Severus replied, mouth dry.

The wizard chuckled.

"I didn't say what I was looking for."

He stroked playfully at his moustache, shades darker than the flaming red of his hair. Severus wanted to do terrible things to that moustache.

"Who are you?"

The man thought for a moment.

"Ronaldo Weasleyo."

"Continental?" Snape asked.

"Very."

Weasleyo helped himself to a glass of wine, topping up Snape's glass in the process.

***

Beyond that, the evening was a blur, and when Severus was awoken the next morning by the green light filtering through the tiny windows of his bedroom, he knew something was out of place. He didn't normally sleep on the bottom bunk.

Tentatively, he got out of bed, pulling his dressing-gown tightly around himself.

Lying in the top bunk, still fast asleep, was Ronaldo Weasleyo.

He was still as handsome as the night before, but with drunkenness fading in favour of a hangover, he looked younger and more delicate. Bathed in the cool green light, Severus wanted to reach out and stroke his moustache.

It came away under his fingertips.

"Weasley!" he exclaimed.

The boy woke with a start and attempted to reattach the Zonko's creation, but the damage was done.

"Professor, I can explain!"

His blue eyes were wide with panic, but Severus knew his own position.

"I cannot afford to wake up with another student in my bed!" he whispered, as if half the castle were gathered outside his bedroom door.

"But could you stand not to?" Ron pleaded. "I love you!"

"Don't say that. We've still got three books to go- I die, you end up with Hermione."

Ron shook his head.

"I don't want her, and I definitely don't want you to die. It's you, Professor, it's always been you. You're all I ever think about."

"Don't be so foolish!"

"Listen to yourself!" Ron shook his head, eyes wet with emotion. "You want this, I know you do. Sod Harry, sod Voldemort, sod the whole canon. Let's make a break for it."

Snape stilled.

"Where will we go?"

"Anywhere we want," Ron smiled. "So long as it's not France, Ireland, Romania or Egypt. They're all mentioned."

"Damn. I had my heart set on Paris."

"Prague, then?"

Snape's cold heart warmed.

"Put on your moustache, Ron. We're leaving."

Snape would never again attempt to host an Ann Summers Party. He donated most of his collection to Madam Pince, the kinky bitch, but he and Ron kept hold of a few treasured items. They lived out their lives fluttering in and out of cafés, and doing charcoal drawings of Prague's  
iconic buildings as well as their own naked forms.

Back at Hogwarts, they had dressed up two house-elves in wigs (which do not count as clothing), and nobody was any the wiser. In fact, you already know how it all went.

*FIN*  
  
 _A rehash of a fic I wrote about eight years ago with my colleague[Splooshed](http://splooshed.tumblr.com/) (Tumblr). Eight years, man._

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is http://parkerdell.tumblr.com/ if you're even mildly interested.


End file.
